


Course Correction

by FreakishLemon



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Baby Clones, Gen, Time Travel Fix-It, clone characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8339320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreakishLemon/pseuds/FreakishLemon
Summary: Ben Kenobi woke up.
It was still a novel sensation, even after three weeks. He had, perhaps naively, assumed that once he died, waking up would no longer be an option.





	1. In Which Obi-Wan Realizes That This Is Not A Dream

Ben Kenobi woke up.

It was still a novel sensation, even after three weeks. He had, perhaps naively, assumed that once he died, waking up would no longer be an option. It was a pleasure that he had not previously paid much attention to. He yawned contentedly, watching the first glimmers of the Coruscant sunrise light up his old room, and ran a hand through the old familiar spikes of the Padawan haircut. He pulled himself out of bed and silently went about getting ready for the day, smiling to himself at the sounds of Qui-Gon Jinn doing the same from the other side of their quarters. 

Ben, or rather Obi-Wan these days, idly wondered if he’d ever get used to this again. His body was all of twenty-two years old and the world turned through the warm memories of his senior Padawan days. He’d had to stop himself from startling at the sight of his unwrinkled hands and suppressing pleased grins when his joints did not ache after simple katas. He basked rather indulgently in the sense of all the living beings moving about the Temple; they were a balm to the aching hole in his chest left by the final stroke of the War.

Obi-Wan knew that Qui-Gon suspected something had changed with his Padawan, but the Master never inquired. Obi-Wan could barely remember what his usual behaviours had been in these days and he supposed he was at an age where they might change. He had no idea if the glances Qui-Gon kept throwing his way were present the first time he had lived through this and he just hadn’t noticed.

The two Jedi breakfasted in the usual manner, each seated on either side of their small table with tea and a thick porridge. Neither of them spoke and Obi-Wan fondly remembered being frustrated with his Master’s silence when he was younger. It hadn’t been until late in his apprenticeship that he had realized that Qui-Gon Jinn was not, in fact, a morning person when he was within the confines of the Temple. If there was a mission scheduled, if they were off-planet, or, as Obi-Wan had learned on one memorable morning in his fourteenth year, if his Master had fallen asleep meditating in the Temple gardens, Qui-Gon Jinn would be up and alert at first light without fail. The Jedi Master may have _appeared_ to be awake at the breakfast table, but Obi-Wan knew that he wouldn’t be _alert_ until after his second cup of tea.

It was as they were clearing their dishes back into the kitchen to be washed that Obi-Wan felt a sudden surge in the Force. He frowned and reached out with his senses. It wasn’t a _bad_ feeling - not like the usual ones anyway. Something was about to change and the warning thrummed along the inside of his skin. 

“Obi-Wan? Is something wrong?” Qui-Gon asked, taking Obi-Wan’s plate from him to set it in the sink. 

“I don’t know,” Obi-Wan said slowly, turning to take in the room. How could things change? He was living his days as he remembered them, but if something were to _change_ , then that would be that this was _real_. That would mean that for the past three weeks he had actually been _living_ his past life.

The chirp of the comm interrupted, making Obi-Wan jump and pull his mental senses back behind his shields. Qui-Gon put a reassuring hand on his shoulder for a brief moment as he passed by to see to the call. Obi-Wan watched as Qui-Gon picked up a comm from the entryway table and frown in confusion. Obi-Wan tensed as his Master picked up the other comm; he could see the blinking call light from the other side of the room.

“It’s yours,” his Master said, holding out the comm. Obi-Wan didn’t even feel himself move as he crossed the room, took the device, and answered.

“Kenobi.”

“Good morning, Padawan Kenobi. Forgive the intrusion, but there’s been a request to send you a message from Temple Air Control.” 

“Oh?” He shared a look with his Master and shook his head in response to Qui-Gon’s inquisitive look.

“Yes. There’s a ship entering Coruscant air space. We can’t identify the make of it. It’s not Republic manufacture, but they’re requesting permission to land in the Temple hangar on one of our frequencies. The transmission is a little garbled, but they said they would only speak to you.”

“That’s curious. Did they identify themselves?”

“Only as 2224.” Obi-Wan felt his entire body go cold and his stomach clench. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Qui-Gon startle at his reaction.

“What’s the message?” he said, in the urgent clipped tones he hadn’t used since the War. There was a pause along the line, the faint sound of static as the speaker addressed another caller, and then the quiet click that released the call from hold status.

“The connection with the ship is experiencing some distortion, so Control’s not sure they’ve got this exactly right. As best we can make out, they said ‘Chips inactive’ and ‘Cadets too… shiny’? Does that mean anything to you?”

“Give them permission to land. I don’t care what Control has to do to get that clearance. Get that ship docked here. Do _not_ let Control redirect them to a public hanger.” Obi-Wan closed the call, stuffing the comm into the pocket in his tunics as he turned to retrieve his boots. He grabbed his lightsaber and hooked it to his belt as he stormed out the apartment. 

“Padawan!” Qui-Gon called after him. Obi-Wan slowed his steps slightly to allow his Master to catch up, but he did not stop. He couldn’t have stopped if he had wanted to. There was a sharp tug in his mind pulling him towards the Temple hangars. “What is going on?”

“I don’t think I can explain it, “ Obi-Wan said quietly. “Not yet. Not until I know for sure.”

“Know what, Padawan?” At Obi-Wan’s silence, Qui-Gon sighed. “Control will have to get the Council’s approval to let a non-Republic vessel dock.”

“Then they will have to get the Council’s approval,” Obi-Wan said curtly. They turned into a lift and Obi-Wan jammed the button impatiently. He could barely keep himself from fidgeting. 

Obi-Wan could feel the ship approaching as he left the lift into the expanse of the main Temple hangar. The technicians and mechanics moved about their business as usual, but Obi-Wan noted several Jedi stop to turn towards the ship. It was a big, gluttonous-looking thing - a Kaminoan cargo vessel. It’s bulging, rounded shape almost resembled one of the native whales and its gleaming silver-white panelling looked out of place here on Coruscant. Obi-Wan had never seen one venture this far out from the Kamino system and he watched it warily as the great shape of it slowly settled into place. 

Obi-Wan kept walking, hand on the hilt of his lightsaber, and stopped to stand in front of the loading ramp. The ramp hissed and sighed as it lowered. Obi-Wan tensed as he heard footsteps and then three figures disembarked. Obi-Wan’s heart ached to see them, but he did not relax and he did not remove his hand from his lightsaber. Qui-Gon’s alarm at this seeped into their bond, despite the Master’s normally tight shielding. Obi-Wan didn’t blame him. His normally level-headed apprentice was ready to draw his saber at the sight of children, but Obi-Wan could still feel the echoes of thousands of lives ending and he would take no chances.

The children stopped at the end of the ramp. Cody stood center forward, small hands steady on the comically large blaster rifle. He planted himself with feet shoulder-width apart, braced and ready for whatever happened next with experience that betrayed his true age. Obi-Wan guessed his physical maturity was about that of a natural-born-human six year old. To Cody’s right stooped the small form of 99, who kept looking around nervously, and to Cody’s left was the smaller figure of Rex, who did not break formation even though he was shivering.

“Commander.” Obi-Wan’s voice was rough, his throat tight with his jumbled emotions.

“General.” Cody sounded relieved.

“Padawan, what-”

“Is it just you who remembers?” Obi-Wan interrupted, silencing a shocked Qui-Gon with a glare. Cody shrugged.

“So far,” he said, “But most of my brothers are still in tubes. We were the early batches.” Cody paused, looking uncertainly around at the crowd that had started gathering.

“Go on, Cody,” Obi-Wan said. “I need to know.”

“Chips don’t work on cadets. I pulled the data myself. Back ups are in the ship with everything we need to start the procedures. We cleared the bastards out and wiped everything. Scrambled the sequencers, so they can’t even use Fett’s DNA until they either rewrite the code or get a whole rash of new equipment. If they fulfil the order as contracted, they have to start fresh. That’ll buy us some time.”

“And the others?” 

Cody jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Obi-Wan lowered his shields and brushed against the Force’s presence within the cargo ship. Hundreds of tiny lives, some no brighter than an ember, huddled inside the bulky ship’s mass. 

“I wouldn’t have come unless I knew everyone would be safe, General. I’m not gonna let any of it happen again.”


	2. In Which Qui-Gon Jinn Observes and Does Not Deal With His Feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a short chapter, but my brain felt it was important that we see some Qui-Gon POV regarding our time traveling friends. The next part is likely to be a bit more substantial than this.

Qui-Gon Jinn was troubled. To see such a sudden and drastic change in his Padawan frightened him, and that was no small thing to admit to himself. Obi-Wan could be an impulsive, headstrong young man, but to see him prepared to draw his lightsaber on a _child_ sent sharp, cold pangs of fear through Qui-Gon’s chest.

Later, in what felt like the longest Council meeting in history, Obi-Wan had told the Council a truly outlandish story of the return of the Sith, a galactic civil war, and the rise of an Empire. It was the stuff of ghost stories told in the creche and dry history lectures half-remembered. Obi-Wan claimed that both he and _Commander_ Cody had lived through this future. Qui-Gon’s mind rebelled at the thought that dark days such as those were even a possibility, but he couldn’t deny the haunted look in Obi-Wan’s eyes or the full body flinch from the boy beside him when Obi-Wan described the fate of the Republic. The young man spoke vaguely - very carefully not giving any names or specifics Qui-Gon noted - and it made the story seem all the darker for the things that Obi-Wan wasn’t saying. _Something_ had happened to his Padawan certainly. _Strong visions, perhaps,_ he justified to himself, trying to ignore his own unease at the strangeness of the situation.

Master Yoda had believed in the possibility of this future, but many of the Masters had not. This spurred on what had seemed like endless debate and questions. The Council could not agree on which actions to take, if any, especially when investigation into the kind of powers that this Padawan was alluding to could potentially bring charges against the Order if not handled with the utmost care. 

It was Obi-Wan who eventually drew the meeting to a close, interrupting another heated argument with a shout. His voice commanded the room easily and Qui-Gon was surprised to find that the Councillors _listened_. Obi-Wan told them that the cloned children would stay in the Temple with refugee status until a suitable arrangement could be made with the Sentient Rights Commission and argued the logic of the choice with brutal efficiency. Not even the most stubborn of the old Masters could argue that the Temple didn’t have the space that could be cleared for children’s rooms and the incubation tube equipment, the Healers that were needed to remove the fetally-implanted bio-mech chips, and enough adults and material resources to provide consistent supervision, sustenance, and education in accordance with the law. 

The meeting wrapped up quickly after that, but Qui-Gon knew that it would be a short-lived agreement. The Council was not a body inclined to change and this interruption rankled the traditionalists, but something had to be done with the strange ship’s occupants before the arguing could resume. Mace shot Qui-Gon a glare as the Masters exited the Council chambers, to which Qui-Gon could only shrug in response, but his heart lightened at the feeling of amusement that Master Yoda sent along their latent training bond. At the very least, his young Padawan had his great-grandmaster on his side. Obi-Wan would need that support when they would be inevitably called in again in a few days.

Now, Qui-Gon felt himself at a bit of a loss, standing in the corridor with Obi-Wan and Cody as they waited for a healer to accompany them back to the ship. Breakfast seemed as if it was years ago. Only that morning, Qui-Gon could still see parts of that little boy he’d chosen on Bandomeer reflected in his student’s face. For all that Obi-Wan’s face hadn’t changed in the past few hours, the expression on it now belonged to a much older and a much sadder man. That little boy had slipped away and it made Qui-Gon swallow hard against the sudden sadness.

“Master?” Obi-Wan’s voice cut into Qui-Gon’s thoughts. “Something wrong?”

“Plenty of things, if I stop to think about it, but there’s nothing that can be done about them at the moment.” At Obi-Wan’s frown, Qui-Gon reached up with one hand, briefly touched Obi-Wan’s cheek, and then thought better of himself and settled the hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. “Just wondering how you managed to grow up so quickly without me noticing.”

The moment stretched silent between them. Qui-Gon couldn’t read the expression on Obi-Wan’s face, but those blue-green eyes didn’t blink until Cody snorted on a laugh.

“Something funny?” Obi-Wan asked his companion, looking away quickly and almost hiding his grin. Qui-Gon watched them share a look, easy and familiar between them, before Cody rolled his eyes.

“Grown up? You look like a fresh-faced cadet too green for his armor. Almost didn’t recognize you when we landed,” Cody said, his accent lilting around his dry amusement. He looked to Qui-Gon, gestured to his own chin, and mouthed ‘no beard’ before grinning back up at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan just smirked, brought his hand up to shoulder height, and then slowly lowered it onto Cody’s head. Qui-Gon chuckled when the boy slapped the hand off with a scowl.

“I suppose we’ll _all_ have to adjust to things being different than what we expect,” Qui-Gon said diplomatically, mood sobering again.

“Different.... ” Obi-Wan stilled, eyes far away for a moment, before smiling to himself. “Yes, I think I can manage that.” Qui-Gon paused in the same moment that Cody narrowed his eyes up at Obi-Wan.

“What are you up to now, sir?” the boy asked suspiciously, clearly familiar with that particular tone in his Padawan’s voice.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Look, there’s Master Che,” Obi-Wan said cheerfully, not entirely hiding the twinkle in his eye as he backed away.

“Padawan-” “General-” Qui-Gon stopped himself just before Cody did and gestured for the boy to continue. Qui-Gon watched as Cody searched for the right words, glancing up at him once with a calculating gaze, before he settled on shaking his head. Qui-Gon couldn’t think of anything to say either. In recent years, his Padawan’s trust and openness in their training bond had made any verbal warnings irrelevant, but the bond had been muffled since that morning. To Qui-Gon’s surprise, Obi-Wan laughed and waved off Cody’s exasperated sigh and Qui-Gon’s warning look. 

“Just going to have a brief word with Master Binnis. I’ll meet you later.” He ducked past Master Vokara Che with a half bow and was down the hall before either Qui-Gon or Cody could protest. Qui-Gon accepted the brief pang of nostalgia for yesterday, when he could still reliably predict Obi-Wan’s behaviour, and released it into the Force.

“Sir, who is Master Binnis?” Cody asked, turning back to Qui-Gon and clasping his hands behind his back. The dissonance between Cody’s six-year-old body and adult mannerisms was starting to give Qui-Gon a headache. He frowned as he tried to remember the name.

“If I’m remembering correctly, Binnis was promoted to head of Search a few months ago,” Qui-Gon said after a moment’s thought. _But what could Obi-Wan possibly have to say to Master Binnis…_

“Ah. Well. That should be interesting,” Cody said. Qui-Gon narrowed his eyes at the small form. Cody knew more about what Obi-Wan was doing than he was saying, but Qui-Gon chose not to press for answers. The answer reveal itself in time, probably sooner than he would be prepared for, and it was already turning out to be a _very_ long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qui-Gon, you should maybe deal with these feelings~~ :D


	3. In Which Commander Cody Probably Needs A Good Long Nap But Will Not Submit To His Tiny Body

Cody stood at perfect parade rest in the last hold of the ship, surrounded by the calmly floating forms of his youngest brothers still growing in their incubation tubes.

The infants had been removed from the ship first by a flurry of Healers, whisked away and hastily handed off to the Masters in the creche to be fed and entertained. Then the toddlers and his age-mates had been led into the Temple to play in the gardens with the other younglings while the docents and Padawan volunteers rushed to prepare living spaces. Half of the med droids that had left Kamino with them had commed him to report with pleased tones that his brothers were doing well and that even the temporarily cramped quarters in the Temple creche was an improved environment for their care. The other half hovered quietly among the tube racks, checking on the littlest brothers with single-minded attentiveness.

Cody had never given the med droids much thought during his childhood and had been wary of them during the War, always on watch for any programmed spies in their ranks. After the War - after he had lost himself and scraped his way back through the waves of command signals punching into his brain - after he’d made a hundred conscious choices _not_ to eat his blaster- well, if asked he’d just say that he understood General Skywalker’s outlook on droids much better than he did before. The AZs had already come to their own conclusions regarding the wellbeing of the human clones under their charge by the time they had noticed Cody’s change in behaviour. If they hadn’t volunteered to help him execute his escape plan, he didn’t know how he would have gotten all of his brothers out.

“Commander?” AZ-3 drifted over, waving one of their small arms. “We’re about to start moving the incubation units. Can you please stay with Lines while we change to the portable power cells? The readings may fluctuate while we work and I don’t wish him to become distressed.” Cody nodded, and walked towards Lines’ nest of blankets against the bulkhead as AZ-3 drifted along beside him.

“Did you explain what you’d be doing?” he asked.

“Of course, Commander. He acknowledged the statement, but it’s my understanding that organics can still exhibit an undesired emotional reaction to an expected stimulus.”

“True enough,” Cody said.

Lines was sitting in the middle of his blanket nest with three datapads propped up in front of him, head tilted slightly to one side as his eyes flicked between the three screens. He had half of a ration bar in one hand, which he absentmindedly nibbled on, and the other hand twisted the corner of one of the blankets. He shifted a few inches to make room for Cody to sit down with him and Cody sat cross-legged in the offered space, knee just barely brushing Lines’ thigh. He knew from the data they’d pulled that Lines was four months older than him, which made Lines the oldest of his brothers. There were no others left from Lines’ batch. Cody and 99 had been the oldest brothers alive by the time they’d graduated cadet training the first time around and it burned him that Lines had been scheduled for-

_Tap tap._ Cody jerked out of his thoughts at the gentle tap on the back of his hand. Lines never looked away from the datapads, eyes following the patterns made by the recorded vitals from the incubation tubes around them. 

“You’re right,” Cody said with a sigh, closing his eyes and leaning back until his shoulders touched the bulkhead. “We left. We’re safe.”

Cody didn’t know how long he sat there, eyes closed and listening to the droids and healers working in the distance. Sometimes Lines would hum very quietly to himself and it warmed Cody to hear it. Lines didn’t talk and he only hummed when he felt comfortable, so Cody supposed that any fluctuations in the readings weren’t significant enough to worry him. Gradually, Cody felt his body begin to relax.

It surprised him, when the next exhale shook at the end and that sudden tightness beneath his breastbone sharpened the following inhale. Cody tried to smooth out his breathing, tried to hide a sob with a cough, but his eyes were already tearing up. They were all so _young_. Cody’s batchers and the next set would have been already preparing for cadet training back on Kamino. They would have already been _brainwashed_ into becoming meat puppets for the Cha- the Emp- _that bastard’s_ power games. Cody covered his face with his hands and tried not to remember, but the memories flashed against the back of his eyelids: the first time they’d landed on a planet with trees and grass, the first time they’d seen the Coruscant lights at night, the first time they’d eaten something other than ration bars and nutrient paste around a fire, the first time they’d seen a wide clear sky from the top of a mountain…. He couldn’t stop seeing their faces each time they’d discovered a galaxy full of art- poetry- music- _love_.

They’d been raised for blaster fire and blood. Beautiful things had always caught them by surprise.

“Cody?” Cody cursed under his breath and wiped at his face. He’d been so focused on trying to keep from crying that he hadn’t noticed the General entering the hold. The Jedi’s boots were startlingly loud now that he was aware of the sound of them. Beside him, Lines tensely stilled his fidgeting.

“Yes sir,” Cody called to the approaching Jedi, “Was there something you needed?”

“Not especially. Just wanted to see how things were progressing.” 

General Kenobi opened his mouth to say something else, but changed his mind and lowered himself to sit cross-legged on the decking. Cody half-smiled for a moment, warmed by the feeling of the unspoken _are you alright?_ that drifted in the air between them. He’d missed this. He’d missed the easy feeling of being under General Kenobi’s command - of being his friend. They’d fallen into place so quickly at the start of the war -

But of course, as soon as Cody thought it, the sharp stabbing pain of that day on Utapau resurfaced.

“Sir-” Cody choked out, but General Kenobi stopped him with a large, warm hand on his shoulder.

“Cody, the whole war was a trap from the start. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But _I_ gave the order,” Cody ground out through clenched teeth. His hands made fists against his legs. Lines made a low noise, but Cody didn’t look over. He couldn’t show his brother the shame on his face.

“I _survived_ it, Cody. You did not kill me. The betrayal that day was not of your making.” The General’s voice was rough with pain, but he did not look away and Cody knew that General Kenobi truly believed that. Relief washed cold through him and in that moment he felt like things were _sure_ again. It wouldn’t last. Cody wasn’t naive enough to believe that, but it was a comfort all the same.

_Tap tap_ on the back of his hand again and Cody half laughed at the stern look Lines gave him when he turned to his brother. _Safe._ Cody reached up to grip the General’s hand on his shoulder with his own smaller one and nodded.

“Thank you, sir.” 

“You are always welcome, Cody.” General Kenobi’s smile crinkled his eyes and when he withdrew his hand, he nudged at Cody’s shoulder with his knuckles.

Lines made a small sound at the gesture, inquisitive, and Cody reached over to nudge Lines’ shoulder with his knuckles. Lines hesitated, glanced back to the datapads for a brief moment, and then reached out his own curled hand to nudge Cody back. Cody tapped twice on the back on Lines’ hand before he pulled it away. _Safe._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read this fic and a special thanks to the folks who first read this on Tumblr who flailed and encouraged me to continue with this one. I had part of chapter 2 written when I originally posted this on Tumblr, but I was starting to feel daunted by the implications of starting this kind of time travel fic. Your excitement about the bb!clones and about the potential shenanigans caused by two time travel characters really encouraged me to explore this AU a bit more.
> 
> I mean, I still don't know where Obi-Wan and Cody are leading me here, but I'm a little further in than I was before and that's a pretty good feeling.
> 
> (And if you want to follow my obsession and snippets over at freakishlemon.tumblr.com, I'd be thrilled :D )


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